The Secret of the Cherry Blossoms
The pathway was lined with petals, a canopy of branches splayed out like the parasol of a lord’s daughter. Two star-crossed lovers strolled through, their eyes wide as they absorbed the beauty, escaping from the complex world they were engulfed in.
The trees were old as time, carrying the wisdom and memories that one gains through age. The couple was an interesting pair, from what the trees had told through the breeze. The girl was indeed a lord’s daughter, her hair elaborately styled and her curves accentuated in a handmade silk kimono. In contrast, the man was a common farm hand, an honest worker but dirt poor.
Their outings were kept a secret known only to the nature surrounding them. As cliché as it sounds, she was promised to another, a noble suitor deemed suitable by her father. And even the farm hand was bound in a love arrangement to his employers daughter; he was groomed to take over the farm as the owner had no sons and he was relatively good looking for someone who spent most of his time knee-deep in mud and grime.
A tale most carried through blossoms was the day of the noble daughter’s wedding. She was married down that very pathway, chosen by the bride to hold on to what she could of her lover. The sentiment was true, but nonetheless the farm-hand took this as an act of moving on, rewriting over the history they had created together. Filled with jealousy, he fired an arrow, perched in the trees, that flew straight in between the two before they joined lips to seal their ‘love’.
The farm-hand was never caught and was soon wed to the woman he was formally promised to. The petals guarded his face as they searched for the culprit, sworn to keep the scandalous secrets between the two lovers.
This was a tale of many, many lovers, friends and families being beautifully brought together or tragically torn apart. All known only to the trees, to the petals and to the land. The secrets sewn into their roots.